She was borne in ocean spray
A goddess before the gods.
When I look in the mirror and curse my image,
It is to her I unwittingly pray.

Aphrodite, our savior, in lipstick
Sipping red wine at a table no one is good enough for,
(And yet, we can’t take our eyes off her).

The goddess of love is blood.
Her image comes with the taste of metal,
Chewing on my lip
Instead of looking him in the eyes.
Aphrodite’s image is not one for photography,
I see nothing, and laugh
Halfheartedly.

I can’t imagine love as a being,
Nor can I see beauty as a form.
Both are beyond my fingertips---
I suppose a goddess can be sea foam.